Origin of the Sword
by yugoma
Summary: If you know DBZ, you know that Mirai Trunks has a mystery sword. Here's where I think he got it. Short peice, not much detail.


Title: Origin of the Sword (Or...Where in the world did he get that thing?)

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, I just use the guys for awesomeness.

Summary: My view on where Trunks got his sword.

Note:

-Trunks is around 11

-Some AU parts

...

"You're doing great, Trunks!"

Gohan smiled as he watched his young pupil. The younger half saiyan had improved so much in the past few months. He hadn't reached his super saiyan form yet, but the boy was so determined that Gohan was sure he would reach it soon. He had to. Gohan frowned as Trunks' collapsed. He walked over and laid his hand on Trunks' shoulder.

"That's enough for today."

Trunks nodded and stood up. The two saiyans began walking back towards a place that could be called call home.

"You don't have to walk me home, Gohan." Trunks mumbled.

"I've got to make sure you get home safe, kiddo."

"But it's only a few blocks."

"A few blocks out in the open."

"Gohan-"

"Just let me walk you home, Trunks."

As the two rounded a corner, a familiar blue-haired woman ran up.

"Gohan! Trunks! I'm so glad you're okay."

She stopped by them, face grim and eyes showing her worry. The half saiyans shared a look. Trunks spoke first.

"What happened mom?"

"There was an attack in Orange Star City." She said quietly.

Her eyes went to Gohan and the male paled at her sympathetic look.

"Gohan, Your grandfather called. He was worried. He said...your mother was headed to that city when they spoke on the phone."

Gohan flinched back. He suddenly took off, golden energy surrounding him as he tore through the sky. He felt a presence beside him and looked over to see Trunks.

"Trunks? Go home-"

"No! I'm coming with you!"

Gohan saw the familiar determination in the young boy's eyes. He nodded and turned his own eyes to the sky. He sped up, leaving Trunks to follow his trail.

...

The two half saiyans landed silently on a less than perfect street. They quickly took in the carnage, bodies strewn across the pavement, buildings collapsed, cars upturned. Trunks covered his mouth as the sight of a bodies, torn apart. He quickly turned around and dropped to his knees, puking on the already stained concrete. Gohan grimaced at the sight and helped Trunks to his feet when the saiyan was ready to move on. Together, they walked to the half crumbled super market. Gohan closed his eyes, focusing on finding his mother's familiar energy. He sighed when he found nothing. He had already known what to expect.

He was surprised when he felt the hard ground under his knees and a pair of small arms around his shoulders. He felt the tears on his face and he let his own arms wrap around Trunks' body.

"I'm so sorry." Trunks whispered into his ear.

Gohan nodded knowing he was, but there was nothing either saiyan could do now.

...

Silence. That was the theme of the room. No one spoke. Nothing and no one moved. The outside world did not exist. Gohan sank further into the couch. His suit wrinkled even more under the pressure. He groaned as the material gripped him tighter and reached up to take his tie off. The material slid from around his neck and dropped to the floor. His jacket was tossed over the back of the couch and he stood to gaze out the window. He wasn't surprised when Trunks walked up, without his jacket or tie and leaned back against the older man. Gohan immediately wrapped his arms around the smaller saiyan, bending down to hug him tighter.

"Gohan."

Gohan looked up to meet his Grandfather's red and wet eyes.

"Yes, grandfather?"

"Now that the...funeral is over, well...there was a, um. There's a lot left at the house. I'd like to, um...take some things with me, but if you would like to go first and take what you want then..."Gohan nodded and Trunks poked tugged on his shirt. Gohan looked down, an eyebrow raised.

"Can I come with you?"

Gohan smiled, glad the boy had asked. He nodded and turned to his grandfather.

"Thank you grandfather. I'll go tomorrow."

The old Ox King nodded and turned to the last occupant of the room.

"Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Mrs. Brief."

"It was no trouble." Bulma replied in a watery voice.

That was a lie. Gohan knew it had been trouble. Gathering a meal for four was hard these days. He said nothing as his grandfather said goodbye though. He didn't want to make anyone feel worse. Everyone was already in tears, no more drama was needed on this day. Trunks tugged on his shirt and he looked down.

"Will you stay here tonight, Gohan?"

"I don't know, kid. I-

"Don't you dare, Gohan!"

Gohan stepped back, shocked at the outburst. Trunks wiped at his eyes roughly and stared hard at him.

"You can't leave, Gohan! You'll go hurt yourself because Auntie Chichi's gone, but you can't! If you get hurt then you'll go away like all the others!"

Gohan dropped to his knees and pulled the boy close to him. Trunks hit him, struggling to break free as he continued to yell at Gohan. The older male shook his head and spoke, interrupting Trunks.

"I won't. I won't ever leave you."

Trunks calmed himself, gripping the older male's shirt.

"You won't?"

"I promise."

Trunks pulled back and nodded, sniffling quietly.

"Okay."

Gohan just nodded, rubbing the boy's shoulder gently.

...

The house looked foreign to them, a place neither one had called home in a long time. They had been busy, training...fighting...trying to survive. This was a home...only now, it was not theirs. Trunks was the first to step up, opening the door slowly. As the inside was revealed, Gohan moved closer. He looked around the room, his eyes reflecting thousands and thousands of memories, both good and bad. A hand gripped his shirt and pulled. He looked down to see Trunks smiling reassuringly. He smiled back softly. The boy was only eleven and he was as mature as Gohan. It was a sad thought, so Gohan forced it away and turned to the living room. As he moved to the photos, Trunks wandered off down the hall.

A picture sat on a small table and Gohan lifted it up with a smile. In the picture, he sat on his dad's shoulders while his mom stood next to them. All three were smiling wide, happy as can be.

The moment was broken when a loud crash reached his ears. He groaned, wondering what his little 'brother' could have gotten into. He held onto the picture as he walked down the hall only to find his young saiyan friend half buried in a pile of junk coming from the closet. He raised an eyebrow and Trunks gave him a silly grin that made Gohan think Trunks was copying him. Trunks held out an arm and Gohan took his arm, dragging him from the pile of junk. Trunks picked balls of fluff off his jeans as Gohan looked over the pile.

"I don't think there's anything here I'd want."

Trunks turned to the pile and spotted a shine in the pile. He reached into the pile, grabbing something cold and smooth. With a strong tug, the object sprang free of the pile.

"Woah."

Gohan stopped searching the pile when he heard his name being called.

"Gohan, look at this."

He looked at the old sword with a frown. It was encased in a dusty and torn brown and gold sheath and looked worn out. A light went off in his head.

"I remember that. Piccolo gave it to me when I began training under him."

"This was your sword?" Trunks said and Gohan could almost laugh at the child-like surprise on his face.

"Yep."

Trunks looked at the sword in amazement. He slid the weapon out of it's casing, eyes widening at the shiny blade.

"Hm...Can I have it?" He looked up to Gohan.

The older male looked surprised but he quickly recovered.

"It's all worn out!"

"Mom can probably fix it. Oh, please, Gohan. Please!"

"Trunks, do you even know how to use that thing?"

"...Um, you could teach me?"

Gohan rolled his eyes and Trunks started pouting.

"Please, please, please!"

Trunks' bottom lip trembled as he gave Gohan his best puppy eyes. Gohan shook his head, cursing what ever gave Trunks' the power to manipulate him.

"Alright-"

"YES!"

"But."

Trunks stopped his celebration, waiting to see the conditions of his prize.

"I hold onto it when you're not using it. You have to train every day with it. Outside and absolutely no bringing it to battle until I say you're ready."

Trunks nodded and hugged his mentor, almost cutting off the man's air supply.

"Alright, get off, crazy kid!"

"No!"

Trunks hung onto Gohan as the bigger man pulled away. His back slammed into a shelf and they both yelped as another pile of junk fell into their heads.

"Nice going, _Gohan_."

...

"Well, you never did get to tell me I was ready."

Trunks looked into his reflection in the sword.

"I guess we've got no choice now, Gohan. When did I ever do what you told me to anyways, right?"

Trunks took a deep breath and jumped over the rocks blocking him from Freiza's men.

"Here goes nothing."

...

So, a little bit 'History of Trunks' with some AU bits and a little DBZ slice at the end there. A bit unusual. I know Gohan's and Trunks' swords look different but this was the only stroyline-fitting way I could see how Trunks' got his sword.

That being said...leave a comment. ^_^


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